


Unexpected Family

by machtaholic (cinderella81)



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Episode: s03e05 A Life in the Day, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 05:21:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20304109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderella81/pseuds/machtaholic
Summary: A simple facebook message from Todd's mom makes Eliot and Q's world go sideways





	Unexpected Family

“Guys! My mom just sent me to coolest thing!” Todd ran into the living room of the Physical Kids Cottage, waving what looked to be a big rolled poster in the air.

“Testosterone so your balls will drop and your voice will change?” Margo called from her spot on the couch.

“Oh, um, no,” Todd said. “She sent me a picture, which I then printed.”

“I don’t want to know,” Eliot said.

“Guys,” Quentin said, rolling his eyes. “No Todd, it’s fine. What did your mom send you?” Quentin sat up from where he’d laying, his head in Eliot’s lap, feet tucked up under Margo’s thigh. He grinned when Eliot tugged him close and leaned happily against him, turning so he could look at Todd.

“I was chatting with my mom on Facebook back on the one computer that works here,” Todd said, “and she told me that she found our family tree!”

“Congratulations,” Margo said, reaching for her glass of wine and downing it in two drinks. “Refill me.”

“Oh, um, sure.” Todd raced for the bottle and filled Margo’s glass before standing in front of the fireplace watching Margo, Quentin and Eliot expectantly. 

“What?” Eliot said. “Something on our collective faces?”

“No,” Todd said. “Are you three … a thing?”

“What?” Margo said. “No. Eliot will forever be my life partner, but he and Quentin are a forever kind of thing that involves copious amounts of sex. And because of that, Q here has become a fixture in my life. We’re working towards best friends.”

“Um, thanks Margo,” Quentin said, kicking her thigh playfully.

“We’re almost there, Q,” Margo said. “Just let me take you for a spa day and we’ll be there!”

“Anyway, my family tree goes back like super far,” Todd said.

“I’ve always been a fan of genealogy,” Quentin said.

“Of course you have,” Margo muttered.

“Wanna see?” Todd asked, already unrolling the papers and laying it out on the coffee table.

“Sure,” Quentin said. He slid off the couch and settled between Eliot’s knees on the floor, tracing back lines on Todd’s family tree and humming with interest.

“My mom said it goes back about eight generations,” Todd said, “except some of the branches are a little sketchy.”

“The further back you get, especially if you don’t have records,” Quentin said, tracing back further and further back on Todd’s tree.

“I want to know if I’m related to someone famous,” Margo said. “Or a Salem witch.”

Quentin’s finger trailed over Todd’s tree, but then his finger stalled. He blinked and stared down at the tree, trying to remember to breathe.

“El,” Quentin whispered. “El.”

“What, Q?” Eliot slid off the couch and wrapped his arms around Quentin, tucking his head on Quentin’s shoulder.

“Look at that name,” Quentin said, pointing to the top of the tree, the furthest generation back. 

“Oh yeah, him,” Todd said, looking at the tree from the other side of the coffee table. “There aren’t any records and we’re not really sure if it’s right or not - it’s a name passed down through the family. We can’t even find any record of his parents, although apparently I was named after his dad.”

“Isn’t your middle name Todd?” Eliot asked.

“Yeah, my first name is Eliot, after Theodore’s dad,” Todd replied. “At least we think his dad’s name was Eliot.”

Quentin’s stomach dropped as he looked at the name, ran a finger over it.

“One of his dads … One of your ancestors,” Quentin whispered. “They spelled it wrong. We spelled his last name C-o-l-d-w-a-u-gh-t-e-r. Eliot …”

“But how?” Eliot whispered. “How?”

“It’s Fillory, anything is possible, I guess,” Quentin said.

“Someone wanna fill in the blanks?” Margo said. “Not for me, I know the broad strokes, but Todd there looks more confused than usual.”

Quentin turned his head slightly and pressed a kiss to Eliot’s cheek. They themselves had still been trying to come to grips with the life they’d lived in Fillory at the Mosaic; a full life lived and then suddenly taken from them. 

And it had suddenly become so very real.

“You know we’ve been questing,” Eliot said.

“To get one of the keys we had to go back to Fillory, Eliot and I,” Quentin said. “And we went back in time.”

“Time travel, totally cool,” Todd said.

“Don’t interrupt, Todd,” Margo scolded.

“We were in Fillory while Castle Whitesire was still being finished,” Quentin said. “Probably the 1880s in our world. We thought it would be a quick thing, set out the mosaic, cast a spell and then bam, there’s the key.”

“It wasn’t a quick thing,” Eliot said.

“We were there for decades,” Quentin said. “We built a life there. At first it was just me and El, working on the Mosaic by day and -”

“Doing much more fun things at night,” Eliot said.

“But then we met Arielle,” Quentin said. “And she became part of our family.”

“She fell for Quentin first, of course,” Eliot said, pressing a kiss to Quentin’s hair.

“Anyway, soon after she joined us, and we began trying to start a family,” Quentin said, “she told us that she wasn’t a Fillorian. She was from somewhere else and had immigrated to Fillory as a child.”

“And where she came from it required more than one male for a woman to get pregnant,” Eliot said. “So we were a family of three that turned into a family of four when Teddy was born.”

“Theodore Rupert Coldwaughter,” Quentin said. “Teddy, for short.”

“Wait … the Theodore Coldwaughter on my family tree,” Todd started.

“Is our son,” Eliot said. “Mine, Quentin’s and Arielle’s.”

“How is that even possible?” Margo asked.

“Fillory,” Quentin said with a shrug. “It’s a weird thing.”

“That’s an understatement,” Eliot said.

“Wait, does that mean I’m related to you two?” Todd asked.

Quentin and Eliot shared a look.

“Technically, yes,” Quentin said.

“Fuck,” Margo said from the couch. “Does this mean I have to be nice to Todd now?”

**Author's Note:**

> I love the idea of Todd being related to Eliot and Q somehow and this is my take on it.


End file.
